Murder at Rally J's
by MLEK
Summary: After receiving a mysterious message outside his door, novelist and former P.I. Rob Baker gets caught up in the investigation of a murder at a nightclub where everyone is suspect.
1. Chapter 1

MURDER AT RALLY J's

_A/N: This is Ghostwriter film noir style. Imagine it kind of like an old black and white Lana Barnes movie. All of the characters in this story are from the TV show Ghostwriter, except for Krista, my own character, who I have never been able to write a Ghostwriter fanfic without including. It's a sickness, I know, but I hope you will enjoy this story anyway. This was written back in 2005, but never shared online before now. I guess I was perfecting it and I am really happy with the final results. If you want to try to guess who the suspect is as the story progresses, feel free to do so in the reviews. I'm curious to see who people think it is at the end of each chapter._

* * *

"Take 'em away, boys," the detective called out as the officers handcuffed the culprits and led them to the squad cars waiting outside. The detective watched from the sidelines, pleased at another job well done.

The sophisticated blonde walked up beside him and stared deeply into his eyes. "Looks like you did it again, Detective. I owe you everything."

"It's nothing, babe."

"I wish I could find some way to repay you."

"We'll work out something," he said and pulled her towards him in a warm embrace.

Fade out.

* * *

The steady clicking of the typewriter stopped as I finished the final page of my manuscript. I pulled the paper out and gave it the once over before laying it on the stack with the others. The ending of the story had been a struggle to get through, but it had been worth it. Finished at last, I leaned back in my chair and stretched. I had lost all track of time while I was engrossed in my writing, so I glanced at my watch to see how late it was. It was almost six, just enough time to get the manuscript over to my editor on the way home.

Suddenly there was a knock at my office door. My first instinct was to ignore it. Ever since I gave up my old line of work to write full time, most of my visitors were ones that I had to turn away.

There was another knock. I sighed and stiffly rose from my chair. Some people just don't get the hint. As I walked towards the door to see who was there, a piece of paper slid under the door. I picked it up and quickly opened the door to see who had left it, but the hallway was empty. I took another look to make sure no one was there before unfolding the note.

_Murder at Rally J's_

I turned the slip of paper over in my hands, examining it, hoping for more information. But there was no more than just those few words. No signature. Nada. Probably just a stupid prank. I went back into the office to grab my hat and coat and my manuscript, then locked up for the night and left the building.

The dingy streets of Brooklyn were dark and damp. It must have rained sometime during the afternoon when I had been absorbed in my writing. When I worked I was sometimes oblivious to the world around me, but when I was out on the streets I made a point to notice everything. This neighborhood was covered in a layer of filth that no rain could wash away. Some sleazy things happened here and you could never be sure what was going to creep out of the shadows or the alleyways. On this evening, as I stepped over the sidewalk puddles, I couldn't quite shake the feeling of being watched or followed. I kept an eye on my back, but never saw anyone suspicious, at least no more than usual.

After I dropped off my manuscript and headed back to my little apartment I passed by a club with a familiar name. "Rally J's"

I paused in front of the building and stared at it for a moment. The mysterious message was nagging at my brain and I couldn't quite convince myself to keep walking. I tried telling myself that I had left the detective business behind, but somehow that message never got through. There was always something to draw me back into the game.

I wrestled with the decision for a few minutes and finally decided that it wouldn't hurt to stop in for a nightcap.

When I opened the door and stepped into the night club, I walked into a room where you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Sure, it looked normal, but the concerned and confused looks on the people's faces gave them away. Even a rookie could tell that something suspicious was going on.

The girl at the hatcheck was leaned forward with her elbows on the counter resting her face on her upraised palms as she stared forward blankly. When I cleared my throat to get her attention she jumped up, startled.

"I- I'm sorry," she said apologetically. She ran the palm of one hand over her head, smoothing back her dark hair as if she were trying to smooth over the thoughts in her mind. She stood up straighter and absently brushed down the skirt of her uniform.

"Can I take your coat and hat, sir?" the hostess asked timidly. Her tone was professional, but her distant, distracted stare remained. She looked like she'd just seen a ghost, but was trying to play it off as an everyday occurrence. I wasn't buying it.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," I said, taking off my outer garments and handing them to her. She handed me a round plastic chip stamped with a number and thanked me before walking off.

I surveyed the interior of the club for a moment as I took a few steps further inside. Aside from the charged atmosphere, everything looked normal. To my left was a bar where a waitress stood as she mixed drinks. To the right were a group of tables and chairs, mostly vacant at the moment, where a few customers were sitting, waiting for their drinks. On the back wall directly in front of me was a large stage. The curtains were open and the spotlight was on a lone figure behind a microphone. His voice carried the hackneyed punch line of a stale joke over the light background noise of the bar. The few patrons of the bar seemed more interested in their personal conversations or their drinks than the comedian's act.

I wandered over to the bar and took a seat. The waitress approached me almost immediately.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked with forced cheerfulness.

"Scotch on the rocks."

"Sure thing," she replied as she reached under the counter for a glass. "Are you new around here? I don't think I've ever seen you before. I've seen a lot of people since I've worked here, but I'm really good at remembering who's been in here before and who hasn't, but I don't remember you."

"I'm a first timer," I replied coolly, as I surveyed the place. It was a nice place, clean, quiet, and kind of cozy. I couldn't see anything unusual, but the weird vibe I had sensed when I walked in the joint hadn't gone away.

"Great. Well, I know you're going to really like it here. A lot of people come in here just as a one time thing, but they like it so much that they keep coming back. I know all of the regulars and I always remember their usual orders."

"That's great," I replied, hoping she wouldn't take that as a sign of interest. Man, this girl could talk. She was so bubbly and outgoing it was a wonder that anyone got their drinks at all.

The waitress was about to start gabbing on again, when she was interrupted. I turned around and followed her stare along the wall behind me. A dark skinned man peeked out of a doorway on the wall behind the bar and motioned her towards him. When she saw him, her cheerful expression suddenly became grave.

"Something wrong?" I asked casually.

"Oh no," she assured me that it wasn't. "The boss is calling me. Excuse me. I'll get your drink when I come back, hon."

I just nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the waitress and the boss talking in the doorway. They spoke in whispers, trying not to attract too much attention to themselves, but it was obvious that something had gone wrong. The boss man didn't seem mad at the kid. He didn't give the impression that she had done anything wrong, but I could tell from across the room that something wasn't right. As they talked, I noticed that they both kept glancing and gesturing towards the backroom. My curiosity was starting to get the better of me and I knew I had to see what was going on back there.

After a moment of conversation, the boss went back into the other room and the waitress walked towards the hatcheck at the front door.

The audience applauded weakly as the man on stage took a bow.

"Thank you. Gracias. Thanks," he said. "Now it's time for the real star of Rally J's. The fashionable and talented singing sensation, Miss Lenni Frazier."

The audience clapped a little more enthusiastically this time as the singer stepped out onto stage. Her appearance was bold and flashy as she walked out wearing a bright feather boa and an elaborate hat that was twice as large as her head. She strutted out onto the stage with bold confidence and immediately began belting out a tune as the man who announced her played accompaniment on the piano.

I turned back to the doorway of the mysterious room in time to see a police officer hurry in from the front door. The hostess and waitress followed him into the bar, but hung back and spoke among themselves as he went into the other room, closing the door behind him.

"Waitress!" someone called out. I turned away and pretended to be interested in the singer on stage as the waitress turned in my direction. But out of the corner of my eye I could see her say something reassuring to the hostess, before returning to her duty. As she started to walk away, a couple who had just finished their drinks started towards the front door and waited as the hostess went to fetch their coats. I spotted my chance. Nobody was looking, so I sneaked over to the door to the backroom and opened it.

When I walked inside four pairs of eyes were on me immediately. I quickly looked them over. There was the boss man, the cop, a snide-looking blond man that I hadn't seen before, and a familiar brunette. When I first opened the door, the woman had been kneeling next to the body of an unconscious man, lying face up on the floor, who the other three men standing behind her had also been looking at. When they heard the door open and saw me standing in the doorway, the woman slowly rose to her feet and all four of them looked at me with surprise.

"Shut that door," the nightclub owner ordered. I did as he asked, but only after I was inside the room.

"Who's this?" the copper asked with an attitude.

"Hey, man, you aren't supposed to be back here," the boss addressed me firmly. His voice was more reasonable than harsh, but he flexed his biceps as he spoke.

"There's no way you're going to cover this up if people keep walking in like this," the blond man remarked with a self-satisfied smug look.

"Why don't you shut up . . ." the cop spoke up quickly.

"Take it easy," the boss interrupted before turning to me. "Who are you?"

"Rob Baker, private investigator," I replied. "I got a message that there's been a murder."

"What did you do, Ferguson? You went behind my back and hired a P.I.?" the cop asked the blond man angrily.

"I wish! But I didn't hire him," the blond man said defensively. "Did you?" he asked the woman.

Her eyes flitted from one man to another when they argued and rested briefly on Ferguson when he addressed her, but in between they settled on me. Her expression was contemplative and her tone was low and emotionless as she replied, "No."

"Look, this is my case. And I can handle it myself," the cop threatened.

"Fine," I shrugged. "I was going into retirement anyway. I'm actually a writer now and a part time journalist. I think I've just got a topic for my next article . . ." I started towards the door slowly, seeing if they would call me back or call my bluff.

"If you need a quote let me know," Ferguson called after me with a smile.

"Now wait a minute," the cop replied as he stepped towards me. I stopped and turned around to face the group. The cop glared at Ferguson, but turned to me with a friendly, yet uneasy smile. "We don't want you doing anything like that. First of all, you've got it all wrong. There's been no murder, just a little accident. And besides, this case is strictly hush hush." He stepped closer to me and spoke in a low voice. "Now what's it going to take for you to keep your mouth shut about what you've seen here tonight? Name your price."

Ferguson heard what the cop had said and spoke up. "Offering him a bribe, huh? And you always said I was the crooked one."

"I thought I told you to stuff it."

"Come on," the boss butted in again. "I think we can all get along here. We've got a difficult problem to solve and we need to pull together." Once the others were quiet he turned to me, seriously. "So now that you know what's going on, do you want to help us or be on your way?" he asked me.

"But I don't know what's going on. All I know is that there's an unconscious man in this room and a club full of edgy people."

"Look we don't have to tell you anything," the cop said. "I'm the professional here and I can handle this without you."

I looked at the faces around the room. This place was fishier than the tuna special at the local cafeteria. Sure they didn't want me here, but if I didn't get to the bottom of this I'd never get rid of the stink.

"Let him stay," the woman spoke up, staring directly at me. I caught her steady gaze briefly, but I couldn't quite read the expression behind her eyes.

"Have you got any credentials?" the cop continued. "You know, I can't let just any Joe off the street interfere with an investigation. I've got to make sure that you're on the up and up."

I gave the copper my card and he looked it over carefully before handing it back.

"Oh yeah. I've heard of you before. I remember now. You do good work."

"Thanks. Now can you fill me in on what's going on here?"

The cop ignored me and looked at the club owner when he spoke. "I just talked to the paramedics. They're going to take him out through the back way and try not to draw any attention."

"Good," the boss replied with a nod of approval. "I hope they can take care of it quickly. I am trying to run a business here."

"If that's what you want to call it," the blond man scoffed.

Before anyone else could speak, the door on the right opened and a pair of men came in carrying medical equipment. We backed out of the way as they went to work, loading the prostrate body onto the stretcher. The room was silent as they went about their business and carried the unconscious man out of the room. The woman was the first to speak up.

"I'm going along to the hospital," she said to one of the paramedics and then turned to the police officer. "Do you need anything else from me?"

"No. But we may call you back later, for further questioning."

She nodded before following after the paramedics. "You know where to find me."

"Wait, I'll go with you, Kris," Ferguson followed closely behind her. She didn't seem exactly thrilled that he was joining her, but she didn't protest.

"Fine, you can go too, Ferguson," the cop said. "But don't go too far. I know we'll need to talk some more about your late friend."

Ferguson rolled his eyes as he ushered her out of the room. For the most part she ignored him, but cast a quick glance in my direction before leaving the room.

"So what's the deal?" I asked once the group was gone and the door shut behind them.

"We were setting up for the evening, like usual, when the girls heard a crash. When they came back to check it out, they found him lying on the floor like this, unconscious," the boss replied motioning towards the spot where the injured man had been lying a few moments before. To the left was an overturned shelf. Its contents, including now broken bottles and cardboard boxes were scattered across the floor and over where the body had been.

"Looks like he had some kind of accident," the cop replied as he searched the area for clues.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"Jeffrey Baxter," the club owner replied with a frown. "He works for Calvin Ferguson, the guy who was just in here. Ferguson runs another club on the other side of town and he hired Baxter to spy on us."

"Spy on you?" I asked incredulously, wondering what was going on at this nightclub that would be worth sending a spy to check out.

"Ever since I've opened this club, Ferguson has been trying to take it over or shut it down. When I wouldn't sell, he started sending Baxter here to dig up dirt for him to publish and smear our club. It's all tabloid trash lies, but it's been working and we've been getting fewer and fewer customers all the time."

"Who are the girls you mentioned?" I asked the club owner. "The ones who heard the crash."

"Two of my employees, Tina, the hostess, and Gaby, the waitress. They were out front setting up for the night when it happened. "

"And you are?"

"I'm Jamal Jenkins. I own and run Rally J's," he introduced himself, offering a handshake.

"So when did Tina and Gaby hear the crash and why didn't you hear it too?" I asked Jenkins.

"It was about a half an hour ago, just before we opened for the evening. I was outside at the time, taking care of some business. I was on my way back in when Tina and Gaby came to tell me what happened."

"So do a lot of people come back here?" I asked. I already knew the place wasn't secure. I walked back here without anybody stopping me and that was when they were trying to keep this secret.

"Just the employees. Well, at least that's how it's supposed to be. I don't know how Baxter got back here. This room is for employees only and he doesn't work here, at least not for me.

"Who does work here?"

"There's me, Tina and Gaby, who I mentioned before, Hector Carerro and Lenni Frazier, who are our entertainers. They're the only ones that were here today before we opened and they all know about this. They're the only ones who know . . .except for the attacker."

"What about the other two that were just here? Who are they and how are they involved in this?"

"Krista Barnett owns the building and runs the hotel upstairs. Calvin Ferguson owns another club down the street. He was Baxter's boss. Both Ferguson and Barnett know Baxter, that's why we called them here," Jenkins explained rationally.

By this time the copper had finished searching the area and stood next to Jenkins. "Well whoever did it, didn't leave many clues behind. It's a clean job," he announced.

"There's always something to give the culprit away," I remarked dryly.

"That is, if it wasn't just an accident," Jenkins added with a shrug. "Baxter was kind of a klutz."

"If it wasn't an accident, it's going to be a tough case to prove," the officer declared. "But I'll bet you anything that creep Ferguson was behind it. He's got guilty written all over him."

"But why would Ferguson attack his own employee?" I asked skeptically.

"Who knows?" the cop replied with a shrug. "But I don't trust him. And he didn't seem very concerned about his partner's 'accident'."

"So if this Baxter guy worked for a rival club, then what's he doing here in the employees only backroom of your establishment, before the place was even open?"

"He must have sneaked in," Jenkins guessed. "He was always sneaking around, spying for Ferguson."

"I guess that's been happening a lot lately," the officer replied with an accusing glance at me.

This time, I ignored him.

As I processed that information, the cop spoke up. "Well I've got to get back to the station and do some background checks, file some reports, you know official stuff. Contact me if you get any leads. I'll be in touch."

"What did you say your name was again, officer?" Jenkins asked.

"Fernandez. Detective Alejandro Fernandez."

"Thanks, Detective Fernandez. I will be in touch," Jenkins said. Fernandez adjusted his hat and was out the door.

"Hey look," Jenkins said turning to me. "I've got to get back to my business . . ."

"No problem," I shrugged and followed him to the door. "I've got a drink waiting."

I took a seat at the bar and sipped at the drink Gaby handed me. The situation I had walked into had been less interesting than I had expected, but something about this evening was still bothering me. My instincts had always proven good in the past and they were trying to tell me something now. I just had a bad feeling about all of this, especially concerning the note that had appeared under my door.

"Murder at Rally J's." But there hadn't been a murder, not even a death, just an injury and an accident. If it was an accident. But whether it was an accident or not didn't concern me. Baxter didn't seem to be in critical condition. As soon as he woke up, he could tell everyone what happened himself.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of a phone. Gaby and Jamal headed for it at the same time, but it was Gaby that answered it. After a moment's pause she turned to Jenkins and asked, "Do you know a Rob Baker?"

Jenkins motioned to me and Gaby passed the phone over.

"Rob Baker," I answered shortly.

The person on the other end sighed, with relief or frustration I couldn't tell. "I'm so glad I caught you, Robby."

She didn't have to say who she was. The sound of the woman's voice took me back to another time and place. It was Krista Barnett, the familiar brunette, who also just happened to own the building I was sitting in. And by the tone of her voice, even a stranger could tell that something was wrong. "What is it?

"I'm at the hospital. Jeff . . .Baxter is dead."

"What?" The news shocked me. Baxter hadn't looked well, but his injuries certainly didn't look fatal.

"It just happened," Barnett continued. "They said it was internal injuries . . ." Her voice trailed off into sharp breath.

" Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. I waited for her to say more, but the line was silent.

"So why are you telling me?" I asked. She didn't say anything right away and I could sense her tension even over the phone. Only then did I realize how blunt the question must have sounded. But we hadn't spoken in years and she was calling me now for a reason. I just wanted to know what that reason was. Instead of taking the issue head on I broke the silence with another excuse, "I didn't even know Baxter."

She spoke slowly, deliberately choosing her words. "I'm convinced that what happened tonight was no accident. He was deliberately pushed. I want to know who killed him," she paused, but when I didn't say anything this time she continued. "The cops probably won't do anything about it and even if they try, they're nothing compared to you. You're the best."

"Was," I corrected her "I'm retired."

"Oh," she said, sounding defeated.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but those are the breaks."

"I'm sorry too," she said quietly and hung up without saying goodbye.

I sat there for a moment, still holding the phone, though the connection was dead. Finally I returned the receiver to its hook and rose from my chair.

As soon as I had hung up, Gaby was there to return the phone to its place underneath the counter. "So who was on the phone? I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it sounded like there was some big news."

"Yeah, you could say that," I said as I reached into my pocket to pay for the drink.

"So what was it?" Gaby asked curiously.

Secretly I thought that the barmaid should learn to mind her own business, but instead of telling her that, I decided to give her the news. I dropped the money on the counter and said, "Baxter's dead."

The news had the effect that I thought it would. Gaby gasped, her cheerful, inquisitive expression vanished and she seemed almost speechless. "Oh, my gosh."

I nodded gravely and turned to leave. On my way back to the hat check I passed by the door to the back room and remembered the mess of toppled shelves and broken bottles and seeing Baxter lying unconscious on the floor as Barnett kneeled next to him and the three men stood over him. Maybe there had been a murder after all and maybe the case would never be solved if I walked away now. Something had led me here tonight and whatever was going on, I decided I had to see it through.

I doubled back and looked for Jenkins. By the time I found him, he had already heard the news from Gaby.

"I was wondering, do you mind if I check out your backroom again and see if I can find any clues that Officer Fernandez might have missed?"

Jenkins paused a minute, trying to decide. Reluctantly he agreed, "Go ahead, man. But you do understand that we don't want this story to get out. It'll be bad for business."

"I got ya. Mums the word," I promised and headed for the backroom.

I stepped inside and took a look around. The first thing I noticed was an unlocked safe on a table against one of the walls. I pushed the partially open door so it swung open all the way. It looked like it had been tampered with, but oddly enough it hadn't been cleaned out. Maybe Baxter wasn't only a spy. Maybe he was a thief as well, but he didn't get the chance to finish the job this time.

I wandered around the room casually. When I didn't come across any other hints of what had happened here earlier that night, I started to wonder if I had been wrong about Fernandez. Maybe he had done a more thorough job than I had thought. Maybe the flatfoot was on the up and up.

I was about to give up the search when a glimmer caught my eye. I looked back into the corner underneath the table and found a plastic chip. #42. A hat check number. It could be a clue. I knew that only employees were supposed to be back here and employees probably wouldn't check their coats with the hostess like the customers. The chip hadn't collected any dust, but I still had no way of knowing how long it had been lying on the floor or who had dropped it. I decided to take a chance and give the number to the hostess and see what I could find out, after I finished inspecting the room.

After a few minutes of fruitless searching in the backroom I walked up to the front desk and handed the chip to the hostess, Tina. Wordlessly she took the number from me and went back to collect the garments. She returned to the desk with a hat and coat and handed them to me almost absently, before leaving her post to have a few words with Gaby, the waitress.

The items definitely belonged to a man. One who was sort of tall and thin by the looks of it. I checked the pockets. Inside were a wallet and a set of apartment keys. The wallet contained a few bucks and some cards. There was an I.D. for one Jeffrey Baxter. But how could Baxter have checked his hat and coat if he sneaked in before the club was even open? I pocketed the wallet and the keys secretly and then motioned for Tina to return.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm afraid I gave you the wrong number. This isn't my stuff."

"But I'm sure I had the right number. 42, right?"

"Oh no. It wasn't your fault. It must have been mine. I set my number down at the bar and I must have picked up somebody else's. Here's mine."

She looked at me curiously, but said nothing as she took Baxter's belongings and went back to get my garments.

"By the way," I said as I took my hat and coat from her, once she returned. "Do you happen to remember who had #42?"

"No. Why?"

"Just curious. I'll catch you later," I said and walked out of the club. I'd be back soon though. I wanted to go check out Baxter's apartment before the cops got there and messed stuff up. I needed to find some clues as to why anyone might want him dead.


	2. Chapter 2

I got to Baxter's place with no problem. It was a shabby little low-rent one-room apartment. The furnishings inside were simple, bed, desk, dresser, kitchenette and a small bathroom attached at the back. As I surveyed the place, my eyes were drawn to a small flashing light, Baxter's answering machine. I pressed the button and let the messages play while I looked over the contents of the desk.

"Twelve oh six P.M.," the mechanical voice announced before the beep.

"Hey Baxter, where are you, buddy? I've been waiting to hear from you all morning. Have you got the information ready for me yet? I've been waiting. I hope you aren't holding out on me. You know what happens to low down, dirty double-crossers. Just get it to me A.S.A.P." BEEP

I recognized the voice as Calvin Ferguson's, Baxter's employer. And from the tone of the message, it didn't sound like they had a great working relationship. It didn't make me envy the guy.

"Five thirty one P.M.,"

"Jeff? Are you there? It's me, Kris," I looked up at the sound of her name. Why would Barnett call Baxter? "It's after five and I know you're probably on your way over here. But since I hadn't heard from you yet today, I thought I'd call and make sure you got home alright last night and that . . .everything else is ok . . .well, I guess I'll talk to you later. Bye."

The message didn't shed any light on the situation, then again, they rarely did. Jenkins mentioned that Barnett knew Baxter and she had gone with him to the hospital. The message could have been nothing, just a call between friends, but my years in the business had taught me to take nothing for granted.

The answering machine beeped once more at the end of Barnett's message and then fell silent. I clicked the machine off and started sifting through the papers in Baxter's desk. Most of it was uninteresting, old newspapers, utility bills, and junk mail. When I opened the bottom drawer, a set of unmarked file folders caught my eye. My instincts proved on target again, I had hit pay dirt. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the type of information Ferguson had been after.

I had to read through the disorganized notes before I could put the story together. This Baxter guy had the goods on everyone and it all hinged on Rally J's finances. Some of the papers tracked the nightclub's business. It seemed to be doing fairly well, up until a few months ago, after that their profits started to take a dive. The business was losing money big time. Not only was the business struggling to stay afloat, but the financial situation was causing problems between the employees of the nightclub.

It seemed that all of the employees were complaining that Jenkins didn't pay them as much as they were supposed to get. Frazier and Carrero were looking to get out of their contracts and, according to Baxter, Gaby and Tina had been dipping into the safe when they thought no one was looking. To top it off, it seemed that Jenkins had picked up a gambling habit, that he was trying to keep a secret, as the club's finances were dropping and he'd lost most of the club's profits on bad bets.

There was another folder behind that one that was marked with a big black 'X.' Inside the papers were much of the same. They were Baxter's documents, but this time they focused on Barnett, her financial and insurance status. It seemed like she had a rather hefty insurance policy and had tried to cash in on a bogus claim a few months back.

Baxter had done his homework. He had all the facts in there somewhere, but it didn't look like he'd tried to put it all together. It made me wonder if Baxter had known what he had here.

Satisfied with the search of Baxter's apartment, I stowed the files in my briefcase and headed out into the streets. The night was still young, so I thought I'd head back to Rally J's and see what was going on and maybe start a little interrogation.

I decided to go upstairs and pay Barnett a little visit first. I was rather curious as to how she'd gotten mixed up in all this. And by the message on Baxter's answering machine, I knew that she had talked to him the night before he was murdered. Maybe she would have some clues about who might have wanted him dead and why.

When I asked the person at the hotel front desk where I could go to talk to her, he said she gave strict orders that she wasn't taking any visitors. I tried to reason with the guy, to convince him to at least ask her if she would see me, but he wouldn't budge. He said I'd have to come back tomorrow morning. I gave in and headed downstairs to the club.

When I walked into the bar for the second time that night, it was at the peak hour for most of the city's nightspots, but Rally J's was like a ghost town. I was starting to wonder if news of the murder had gotten out after all.

"Hey, scotch on the rocks," the waitress, Gaby, greeted me cheerfully as I took a seat at the bar.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Told you you'd be back. I didn't think it would be again tonight. But I did remember your drink, didn't I?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "I suppose it's easier on a slow night like tonight."

"Slow night? This is normal around here," Gaby said obliviously as she went to get my drink. I looked around the bar. The place was nearly empty. No wonder the club was having financial problems.

"Thanks," I said as Gaby handed me the drink. "So how do you like working here?"

"It's alright," Gaby said, her tone noncommittal. "But you know, I don't plan on working as a waitress forever. As soon as we get the money me and Tina, that's my best friend, you probably saw her when you came in, she's the hatcheck girl, but that's not all, she's going to be a film maker, producer or director or something. Tina and me, we're going to go to California and make movies. Well, only Tina's going to actually make the movies, but I'm going to act in them. Just you wait, someday you'll see my name in lights, the fabulous star of stage and screen, Gabriella Fernandez . . ."

At first I was just amazed one person could say so much without pausing to take a breath, but then her name caught my attention.

"Hold up. Did you say Fernandez? You wouldn't happen to be related to that cop who was in here earlier, would ya?"

"Oh Alex? Yeah, he's my brother . . ."

She was about to say more when she saw Ferguson take a seat a few stools down from me at the bar. She quickly held her tongue and glared at him.

"Sorry, but we don't serve worms here," Gaby snapped.

"No wonder your business is going under," Ferguson quipped haughtily.

Jenkins, who had been eyeing Ferguson from a distance ever since he entered the bar, came over to intervene. "You've got the dough?" he asked Ferguson with distrust.

"Of course," Ferguson replied, pulling a couple of bills from his wallet and setting the cash on the counter.

"Take his order, Gab," Jenkins instructed and walked off.

Gaby sighed, but kept a hostile attitude towards Ferguson. "What'll it be?"

"Whatever my friend over here is having," he motioned towards me and slipped Gaby a dollar. "Keep this for yourself, just for being so sweet."

Gaby snatched the bill from him and rolled her eyes. She looked around to make sure that Jenkins wasn't watching, before stuffing the bill in her pocket and walking off to get the drinks.

"So how's the case going, P.I.?"

"Who says I'm on the case?"

"I saw you leave earlier. Why else would you come back to this rundown dump? The action's much better at my joint down the street," he quipped. Once he had the chance to take a jab at his competition he nonchalantly added, "Besides I heard Krista on the phone with you at the hospital."

"If this place is such a dump, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to keep an eye on things here. And maybe to talk to you."

"Me? Why?"

"I may have come off as hostile at first, but between you and me, buddy, I'm glad you're on the case. I'd take anyone other than Fernandez. He has it in for me, although I can't imagine why."

"I can," Gaby said forcefully setting his drink on the counter. "Maybe it's because you're such a creep. You've tried to sabotage everything Alex has ever tried to do."

"She exaggerates," Ferguson said to me. Gaby was called away by another customer before she had the chance to protest. "Sure, Fernandez and I have had some rivalries in the past. I think he's a little jealous of me."

"Oh yeah. And why's that?" I asked, slightly amused by the claim.

"Why not? I've got it all," he replied confidently.

"Uh huh," I replied doubtfully.

"Ok, maybe I don't have it all. But someday I will. I bet in just a few months I'll be running this joint," he said casually as he took a sip of his drink.

I admit, Ferguson's admission startled me, but I tried to keep up my cool, skeptical demeanor.

"I'm not afraid to admit it," he continued. "It's no big secret. I won't lie to you, I've had my eye on this place for a long time. I've tried talking Jenkins into selling or Barnett into transferring the lease to me. I even offered to pay more than the place is worth. But they both refused. Go figure. Maybe you'd stand a better argument than I would. Krista seemed to have her eye on you."

"We've met before," I explained briefly and continued quickly before he could try to question me further. After all I was the detective here. "What do you want this place for? Like you said, the business is better on your side of town."

"I could make this place just as happening as the Ruby Parrot. It just needs some fixing up, a little," he paused as he looked around with disgust. "pizzazz. I'd double my profits in no time. You ought to stop by my place sometime and see what a real club is supposed to be like."

"Maybe I will," I said casually. I took a drink before getting back to the issue at hand. "So tell me about Baxter. I heard he was your employee. What was he doing here tonight?"

Ferguson smirked. "Don't beat around the bush, do ya? Yeah, Baxter worked for me. He was my right hand man. I sent him over here to check out the action or the lack of it," he added with a disdainful glance about the room. "I have to keep an eye on the competition, you know. I just asked him to keep a look out and let me know what he saw," he paused a moment and then smirked. "But I don't think I have to tell you."

I looked at him for a moment, trying to decipher the meaning of that last remark, but before I could respond, Ferguson spoke.

"Stop by and see me tomorrow," he suggested as he stood up. "I've got some information that you might be interested in." Then he announced loudly for the rest of the bar to hear as he walked towards the door, "That's enough time in this dive. Time to get back to where the action is. So long, losers."

I sat at the bar for awhile, just observing the place and thinking of my next move.

Ferguson was right about the action not being here. The place was dead. The soft sounds of a few muffled voices and the soft clatter of glasses and an occasional chair sliding across the floor were largely drowned out by the performer on stage. He was the same guy who had been on earlier, when I first came in. Hector Carerro, I presumed. He stood on stage, animatedly telling stale jokes and doing bad impressions. He was doing his best to generate some energy in the room, but most of the patrons weren't paying attention and those who did, were half-hearted in their interest and seemed less than impressed.

I wasn't getting anywhere sitting at that bar stool, so I decided to get up and take a look around. I took a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, before heading for the backroom. I walked inside without a problem and closed the door behind me. The broken bottles and upset boxes were still there, but the safe that had been left ajar, was now closed and locked. There were two doors in the room besides the one that I came in. The one to my left was nothing more than a storage closet, but the one to the right led to a dark, narrow hallway.

The attacker must have escaped from this room one of two ways, through the door that I came in or through this hallway. Since I knew the first option led to the bar, I decided to check out the hallway.

There were a couple of doors on my left, but nothing but an empty wall on the right. The first door was partly ajar. I nudged it open to reveal an office where Jenkins was sitting at a desk surrounded by some filing cabinets and a few stacks of paper.

When he heard the door creak, Jenkins automatically reached over and clicked off the miniature television set on his desk and nudged his desk drawer shut before turning around quickly to face me. He looked startled for a moment, but made an effort to keep a friendly tone when he spoke.

"Hey man, what's up?"

"I was just poking around. I hope you don't mind," I said as I glanced around the room.

"No, why would I? I've got nothing to hide," he said with a shrug. But something about his manner made me think that he was trying to hide something.

"Good," I replied as I surveyed the room, taking notice of the lack of windows or doors in the small office. "I was just wondering how many exits were in this place."

"Just two," Jenkins replied. "The front door that the customers use and the back exit, but we keep that one locked on the outside."

"What about on the inside?"

"No, it's unlocked from the inside, for safety reasons. It's a fire exit."

"So someone could go out that way but not in."

"Exactly," Jenkins replied. "That's what I don't get. I can't figure out how Baxter got in here in the first place. The front door was locked when I came in at 5:30 and I don't think he sneaked in after that. Tina, Gaby, or I were in the front room setting up and when I went outside I was no more than five feet from the door. I don't know how he sneaked past us."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Does anybody else have a key to the place?"

"Just me . . .and Barnett, I think she keeps a spare."

"So where is this back exit?" I asked.

"Down the hall on your left."

"Thanks."

"No problem . . .would you mind closing the door on your way out?" he asked.

Jenkins watched me, making sure the door was shut before turning back to the desk. I stood outside for a moment and heard his television turn on. I could barely make out the voice of a fast speaking announcer. It sounded like he was listening to the races. I decided to move on and see where else this hallway led.

From the office I continued to the second door, which revealed a janitorial closet. I didn't see anything unusual there, so I shut the door and walked on.

The hallway continued on for a few yards before it came to a crossroads. The right turned back into the main room of the club, coming out on the opposite side of the bar, just in front of the stage. The straight path went along side the stage. There were a couple of doors to the side, marked with handmade signs for Carerro and Frazier's dressing rooms. The hallway to my left led to a large metal door marked with a large "EXIT" sign. An agitated looking Lenni Frazier stood at the door, holding it slightly ajar and she leaned outside. She was talking to someone outside, out of view and hearing distance.

"I already told you earlier-" she hissed, the annoyance dripping from her voice before she was interrupted by the person outside. "No, I can't. You know if Jamal ever found out- . . .yeah right. You can't guarantee that . . .Maybe so, but I still don't like the idea . . .Really?" Her voice changed from worried and agitated to curiously interested. "I've got to think about this . . .Um-"

Before she could finish her thought, Carerro appeared from the side of the stage. "Lenni, you're on!"

Lenni looked back in surprise. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she noticed me watching her. "I'll be right there," she called to Carrero before turning her attention back to the person outside. "I've got to go . . .Ok, ok, fine."

She slammed the door shut and turned around. She glanced at me a moment, looking like she was trying to decide whether to confront me or not. But as Carrero urged her on stage, she turned away and walked briskly past me without acknowledgment.

After she had passed, I hurried over to the door and looked out. The door led to an alley between this building and the one next door. I looked around, but not a soul was insight. The person she had been talking to was gone.

I closed the door and walked back into the bar, as Lenni was walking on stage. She seemed flustered, but once she composed herself and started in on the first song, she seemed completely in her element. Anyone who didn't know about her mysterious conversation wouldn't notice anything wrong.

"I don't think I can take this, Gaby. It's just so awful."

I turned around to see Gaby and Tina standing behind the bar with their backs to me. Tina stood tensely with her arms pulled up close to her body. Gaby stood next to her and laid a reassuring arm on the other girl's shoulder.

"I know," she replied empathetically. "But it's going to be ok now."

"How can it be?" Tina asked doubtfully. "He's dead, Gaby. Dead."

Gaby paused a second. "Don't worry, Tina, Alex will take care of everything."

As Gaby turned her head to the side, she noticed that I was standing within hearing distance. She suddenly clammed up and looked startled.

"What is it?" Tina asked, noticing her friend's sudden change in attitude. When she saw me, she paled slightly.

"Oh," Gaby said, quickly recovering. "Alex is going to take care of everything. He's a good cop and he'll find the murderer, so you don't have to be worried. I'm sure we're safe," she continued, speaking quickly.

"Yeah, you're right," Tina agreed slowly.

"Hey, I didn't see you there. I thought maybe you skipped out," Gaby said trying to smile cheerfully.

"No, I was just taking a look around," I replied. The two girls only nodded. "Speaking of the murder, Jenkins said that you were the ones who first heard the crash."

Tina looked visibly shaken when I mentioned the word murder and Gaby too looked uncomfortable but she was the one who spoke up.

"Yeah, Tina and I were out here setting up for the night, like we usually do. Tina doesn't have a lot to do at the hatcheck, so she usually helps me out. We just make sure the bar is stocked with everything and we set up the tables, you know, putting the chairs down and putting out clean tablecloths. Stuff like that. Then suddenly there was this huge crash. It was like someone had knocked over a whole cabinet of glasses or something. It was really startling because we didn't think anyone was back there. Only Tina, Jamal, and I usually go into the backroom and Jamal was outside."

"And we were both out here," Tina added quietly.

"Right, so we went to see what had happened. That's when we found that Jeffrey Baxter guy laying there under a pile of stuff."

"It was horrible," Tina said with a solemn nod. Gaby emphatically agreed.

"Did you see anyone else?"

The girls looked at each other and shook their heads.

"You didn't see anyone come in or out of the club?"

"No one," Gaby agreed. "Not until Jamal came in a few minutes later."

"How about before the accident? Who came into the bar? Did you see Baxter before he was injured?"

Again the girls shook their heads. "I just saw Jamal and Hector," Gaby said. "Jamal came in with us after he unlocked the place. Then he went outside again, before we heard the crash and came back in after. Hector came in when we were setting up and went back to his dressing room to prepare."

"Is there any way someone could have sneaked in when you weren't looking?"

"Sure," Gaby replied with a shrug. "Tina and I are always going back and forth between the front and the back. They could have come in while we were getting supplies from the backroom."

"But Jenkins said one of you three were at the door at all times."

"Most of the time," Gaby replied. "But Jamal wouldn't know. He was either in his office or outside most of the time. And besides I didn't see Lenni come in and she was in her dressing room when we found out about the accident."

I thought the idea over for a moment. I guess it was possible that someone might have come in while they weren't looking and sneaked into the backroom through the hallway. That would probably be the best way to sneak out again, but the timing would be tricky. Someone would really have to know this club. That reminded me of the victim himself.

"Did Baxter ever check his coat when he came in?" I asked.

"Yeah," Tina replied warily. It was a simple question, but she didn't seem like the type who liked to be put on the spot ever.

"What about tonight?" I asked.

She shook her head and looked confused. "No. He was . . .well, you know. We found him back there before we opened."

"What about last night?" I asked. "Did he check his coat then?"

"I think so," she replied. Both girls looked at me curiously, trying to decide what I was getting at. "But I don't remember for sure."

The music onstage ended with scattered applause. Lenni Frazier thanked her wonderful audience for the evening and the stage went dark. Jenkins walked from table to table, announcing that it was closing time. I was hoping to get a few words with Frazier and Carrero, especially Carrero, before I left, but Jenkins seemed to be in a hurry to close up for the night and assured me that I could come back tomorrow to speak with them. I said goodnight to the girls as Tina hurried to her post at the hatcheck and I headed home for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

At 10:30 the next morning, I was up and getting dressed when there was a pounding on my front door.

"Alright, take it easy," I called as I finished tucking in my shirt and answered the door. "Oh, it's you," I said seeing Fernandez standing in the hall. I turned and walked back inside, leaving the door open.

"Sorry to disturb you. But I've got to ask a few questions."

"Investigation going that badly?" I asked as he followed me back to my bedroom and I started to put on my tie. They must have been desperate if they were calling on me for clues.

Fernandez cleared his throat. "Routine, you understand."

"Sure, but I've got to warn you. I'm used to asking the questions, not answering them."

"I hear ya, pal. So why'd you stop in at Rally J's last night?"

"I was just passing by on my way home and decided to drop in."

"Way home from where?"

"My publishers. I was dropping off a manuscript on my way home from my office . . .that's on Fifth Street."

"Gotcha," Fernandez said, taking notes as he leaned against the doorway. "And what time was that?"

"6:00, just before they closed up for the night."

"Anybody see you?"

"Just the secretary at the publishers. I think her name was Janice. I don't know her last name," I added, beating him to the next question.

"Anybody else? Cab driver or someone maybe?"

"I walked. Maybe someone on the streets saw me, but I try to keep a low profile," I glanced at Fernandez again. I knew what he was after and where this conversation was going. "What time was Baxter's accident?"

"Um, that's classified."

"Still not sure we're on the same side?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sounding defensive.

"Nothing. You just didn't seem too happy to have me around last night."

"Yeah, well don't take it personally," he said, his tone turning from aggressive to almost friendly. "I just don't like having other people on my turf."

"No problem," I said as I sat down on the edge of the bed to put on my shoes. "I got there after it happened anyway. You can ask Tina or Gaby about that if you don't believe me."

"How do you know it was after?"

"I could tell something was up the moment I walked in. The hatcheck girl, Tina, was on edge and she and Gaby kept eyeballing that backroom, like something was up, especially after you came in a few minutes later."

Fernandez seemed to blush a second, but quickly tried to regain his composure and cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess you're right. We've placed the time of the incident somewhere between 5:45 and 5:50 p.m. . . . .What made you go into that backroom?"

"Curiosity, I guess."

"Well, I didn't really think you were involved, but I have to question everyone, you know. Well, I'd better get back to Rally J's and look for some more clues."

"Say hi to your sister, Gaby, for me," I said. I watched for his reaction as Fernandez stopped and turned to face me.

"My sister? How'd you know Gaby was my sister?"

"She might have mentioned it last night, among other things."

"What other things? What do you know?" Fernandez asked urgently.

"Just that her last name's Fernandez like yours. And that neither of you cares much for Ferguson."

"Who does?" Fernandez asked with a nervous laugh. "He's a creep. If you're going to follow this case, keep your eye on that one. He's crooked."

"So I heard."

Fernandez looked curious and then smiled. "I questioned him this morning, but he wouldn't say much, only that he was talking to Barnett at the time of the murder. According to him they were having a little business meeting at her hotel at 6:00 last night."

"What did Barnett say?"

"She backs it up. And so does Carrero."

"Carrero?"

"Yeah, Hector Carrero, he's a comedian at Rally J's. After they found Baxter, just before 6 p.m., Jenkins' sent Carerro to tell Barnett about it and he says they were together. That's probably the only thing Ferguson hasn't lied about."

"What's Carrero's alibi?"

"He was backstage getting ready for his show."

"Alone?"

"Yeah, but Lenni Frazier says she was in her dressing room next to his at the same time and she heard him in his room, rehearsing his act, like he usually does before a show."

"What about the rest of the employees?"

"Tina and Gaby were setting up the bar. They can vouch for each other. And Jenkins was out front talking to his wife."

"Jenkins' wife?" I asked curiously. No one had mentioned that he was married.

"Jasmine Jenkins. Jamal Jenkins and Gaby said she came in sometime between 5:30 and 5:40. She and her husband were standing just outside the front door for 10 or 15 minutes talking before Jasmine left at approximately 5:45 or 5:50, about the same time the incident occurred."

"So she didn't know about the murder until later last night?"

"Right, Jenkins said he was going to tell her when he went home for the night . . .Say, you are used to asking questions."

"Force of habit," I shrugged.

"Yeah, well, that's all I know so far . . .Hey, if you've got anything, especially on Ferguson, you'll be sure to let me know?"

"Sure. But I want to ask you something, since you're here. Did you find any fingerprints on that safe in the room where Baxter was murdered?"

Fernandez eyed me suspiciously and looked thrown off guard for just an instant, but he quickly composed himself with a slight chuckle. "Nah, nothing unusual, just the employees."

"What about its contents?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Jenkins said later that he had been robbed, after the excitement over Baxter calmed down, but we don't know where the missing money went. You don't think the two are related, do ya?"

"I'd be surprised if they weren't."

"Yeah, well I wouldn't worry too much about it . . .But you'll remember what I said about Ferguson, won't ya? And I'd keep my eye on Barnett too. They may be in cahoots."

"Yeah . . ." I said thoughtfully as Fernandez left the apartment.

After Fernandez left, I went out for a little walk myself. I'd been wanting to have a little chat with Barnett. I was suspicious of the way that the guy at the desk had dismissed me the night before, especially after Krista had called to ask for my help with the case. And if Ms. Barnett wasn't taking any visitors today, I would be more than a little suspicious.

But when I got there I didn't have any problems. The guy, a different guy this time, working at the front desk pointed me to her office and the secretary there let me right in. When I walked in, Barnett looked up from the paperwork on her desk.

"Hello, Rob," she said with a slight smile as she moved her work aside and stood to greet me. "I was surprised to see you last night."

"The feeling's mutual," I replied as I stepped into the room. "But you know if there's trouble, I'm there."

Barnett nodded and motioned towards a chair across from her desk. We both sat down.

"I thought you were out of the gumshoe game," she teased.

"You and me both, baby. So what brings you into this mess?"

"Well obviously, you already know I own the building," she said with a quick motion to the office we were sitting in. "Someone gets knocked off here and it's my business."

"So how'd you get here? As I remember, real estate heiress is a far cry from the last time I saw you."

"Don't I know it . . .It's been a long time hasn't it, Robby?" I nodded briefly, but made no comment. This was about business, not reminiscing about old times. "You haven't changed," she smiled, catching the hint. "The building was an inheritance, left to me by my grandfather."

"Why'd he leave it to you?"

"Why not? I guess I was the best choice. Of all of my relatives I was probably the one with the most time and competence to run the place. Besides I needed some change in my life. A new location. A change of pace."

I nodded. "What about Baxter? How well did you know him?"

"Well enough," she replied vaguely. "He was a swell guy. A little klutzy, not always too bright," she smiled almost nostalgically. "But he was a sweet kid, a real sweet kid." She frowned, shook her head, and looked away a moment.

I also averted my eyes and tried to keep my expression indifferent. I had learned long ago to stay focused and never let a pretty dame with a sad story get in the way of a case, no matter who she was.

"When was the last time you saw him, exactly? I already know that you saw him the night before he died."

The question had thrown her off guard and I was glad that I didn't take the interrogation down a notch. I almost expected her to ask how I knew, but I think she knew better. "9:30- 10:00 p.m.," she replied. "I'm not sure exactly."

"Where did you see each other and why?"

"Right here. He'd been downstairs at the club earlier and stopped by to say hello."

"Is that it?"

"Pretty much."

"You do know that Baxter was a spy for Ferguson, don't you?"

"Lackey is a better word," she said with a bitter frown. "but yeah."

"And you know that Ferguson's trying to put Rally J's out of business and buy your building out from under you. So why would you associate with someone who's spying for him?"

"Jeffrey wasn't just Calvin's spy. He was a decent guy, unlike Ferguson. He never meant to do anything wrong. He's just . . .loyal."

"So you weren't worried about Ferguson?"

"Ferguson, yes. He's tried every trick in the book to try to get this place shut down. It's never worked though. He's tried making me a few offers to get what he wants."

"Then how come I heard you two had a little business meeting last night?"

"Geez Rob, you sound just like that cop, Fernandez," she rolled her eyes with a sigh, but I stuck to my guns.

"Just answer the question. Why are you doing business with Ferguson?"

"I'm not. He was just trying to make me another offer and I turned him down, as always."

"And why's that? I've heard he's made some good offers."

She scoffed. "Then you haven't heard the half of it . . . Calvin's crooked and sleazy. And I'd rather have Rally J's downstairs than Ferguson or his establishment."

"Even if it means a loss of profits?" I asked. She nodded, but halfheartedly. "So any ideas about who might've tried to knock Baxter off?"

"No," she shook her head sadly. "The sad fact is that it could've been anybody."

It was mid afternoon when I finished up with Barnett, so I headed over to Ferguson's place across town. The Ruby Parrot. You couldn't miss the place. It was marked out by a large neon sign on the front of the building. It was turned off now, but at night, after dark, it must have been a sight. A glowing red parrot with alternating bulbs on the wings to make it look like the wings were flapping. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The door had barely closed behind me when a large, burly gentleman stepped in front of my path.

"You can't come in here, Mack. We're closed," he said in a deep, booming voice.

"I'm looking for Calvin Ferguson. He asked me to stop by."

"Oh. Wait here."

As the man left, I stepped forward and scoped out the place. There were only two words I could think of to best describe the place. Tacky and loud. The place was quiet and empty now, but it was still filled with bright, contrasting colors. Vibrant reds and electric yellows. And dizzying modern art sculptures. The place was already giving me a headache. I couldn't image what it would be like when it was busy and full of people and loud music. I didn't think I wanted to find out.

"Baker!" Ferguson called out as he walked towards me from the other end of the room. He shook my hand and ushered me across the room. "Glad you decided to stop by. Come on back to my office and we'll chat."

Ferguson's office was up a narrow flight of steps. The office itself was rather subdued given the decor downstairs. It's most notable and odd feature were the large bird cages that lined the walls of the entryway. Calvin poked at the cages with his fingers and cooed at the birds inside as we passed. I glanced at them quickly and walked on.

"Take a seat," Ferguson said with a motion as we walked over to a set of chairs. I sat down and adjusted my coat as I settled into the chair.

"Can I get you a drink or something?"

"No thanks," I replied coolly. I wanted to stick to business and I didn't completely trust Ferguson. "You seem to be coping well."

"What . . .oh, you mean after last night? Yeah, Fernandez and his false accusations are annoying, but nothing I'm not used to. People always want to go after you when you're successful."

"I meant the loss of your employee."

"Oh. Yeah, it is too bad about Baxter. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but I kind of liked having him around," he shrugged. "But hey, life goes on."

"Uh huh. So how do you think he ended up dead?"

"I don't know. Maybe he found out something that they couldn't afford to let out. I wish I knew what it was," he mulled, talking to himself as much as to me. "It'd have to be something really scandalous, if they decided to bump him off."

"Had he been looking into anything particular?" I asked.

"You'd know as well as I would," Ferguson eyed me carefully, with a knowing grin. "I saw you leave Baxter's apartment last night. I was on my way there myself. My former partner had some papers that I wouldn't want falling into the wrong hands. I think they're in your hands now. Am I right?" I just looked at Ferguson and kept silent. "Eh, it doesn't matter much. But I want to give you some advice. Check out whatever you can about the fire that was started a few months ago at Rally J's. I've got my suspicions about who did it. Heck, I'll even tell you what I know."

"And why would you want to do that?" I asked as he went back to his desk.

"Unless Jeffrey uncovered something I don't know about, my guess is that he got too close to the arsonist and they turned the heat on him. The facts speak for themselves. You're a detective. I'm sure you can connect the dots."

He dropped a manila folder in my lap and I flipped through the pages.

"I prefer it that way."

"I think you're alright, Baker," Calvin grinned. "Not at all like that joker, Fernandez. He stopped by to question me earlier and didn't even listen to what I had to say. He knew exactly what he wanted to hear before he came in. Anything else you want to know?"

"Just one thing. Did you send for me to check out this case?"

"What do you mean?" he asked looking genuinely confused.

"Nevermind," I said as I stood up to leave.

"Stop by if you think of anything else you want to ask me. I think you and me are on the same team, buddy," he said as he opened the door for me and started to follow me out of the room.

"If you don't mind, I'll show myself out."

"No problem. Take a look around if you want. I've got nothing to hide."

I eyed him suspiciously as he flashed a crooked politician's smile. It was an expression meant to evoke trust, but only made you wonder what it was covering up.

"I hope you find out who's behind it," he called after me. "I hope the creep that killed my informant gets what he deserves."

I went back to my office. It was still early and it would be a few hours before the clubs and Rally J's would be open.

I sat down at the desk in my office, behind the typewriter. It would be awhile before my editor would send my latest story back with corrections for another draft, so I decided to start on the next edition. When I set up the typewriter with a fresh sheet of paper, the blank sheet just stared at me. I held my hands over the keys, but didn't know where to begin.

My eyes roamed over the desk and caught sight of the note that started this mess. "Murder at Rally J's" It would make a good title, but I might have to change the name of the place, to make it more fictional.

But that note. Where had it come from and who had sent it? Despite Ferguson's encouragement, he didn't seem to know anything about it. But then again, maybe he was playing dumb for some reason. The only other person that I thought might have sent for me would be Barnett. But if she had sent the note, I would have thought she would have mentioned it. Anyway it wasn't important. I'm not sure why any of it mattered to me.

I turned back to the typewriter, trying to focus on my work, but before long my mind was wandering back to the case. I started flipping through the folder Ferguson had given me again, periodically. Eventually I gave up all pretenses and immersed myself in the papers.

Ferguson hadn't been completely truthful when he said it was just the facts. The dots were already connected and they spelled out Jenkins.

There were very few facts about the fire. Just that it had started in the back office at Rally J's one evening from a match that had been dropped onto a stack of papers. The investigators never confirmed that the incident had been arson or just an accident. The damage had been too minimal to warrant an in-depth investigation. Ferguson claimed that Jenkins had started the fire in hopes of causing enough damage to collect on insurance. He cited Jenkins' financial problems as motive. The fact that some of Jenkins' financial documents had been damaged in the process was not a coincidence. I knew slanted facts when I saw them and decided Ferguson was either trying to throw me off or to incriminate Jenkins. Or maybe it was both.

Thinking about the file that I found at Baxter's apartment, I didn't remember seeing anything about a fire or an arson investigation. The fire had happened awhile ago, so maybe that's why it wasn't with Baxter's other notes, but if he hadn't been investigating it recently, Ferguson was probably wrong about that being the motive behind Baxter's murder.

The only information directly from Baxter was included in the file that Ferguson gave me. It looked like a brief journal entry from the day of the fire.

"Rally J's closed down early tonight, 8:15 after the fire alarm went off. Carrero put out the fire, but the alarm cleaned the joint out. Jenkins was really mad. He banned me from Rally J's. It's going to be at least a few weeks before I can go back there."

According to Ferguson, Jenkins was mad because the fire was put out before any real damage was done, but nothing in Baxter's notes indicated that. Ferguson was also using Jenkins' hefty insurance policy that he tried to make a claim on as evidence, but he made no mention of Barnett's claim, the one I had seen in Baxter's second file. Maybe Fernandez was right about the two of them being in cahoots.

When I looked over the few raw facts that Ferguson included in the report, I was more interested in Baxter and Carrero's parts in this. Since Baxter was in no shape to answer any questions. I decided to look up Carrero.

I checked my watch. It was after 5:30. Rally J's would be opening soon. I decided to stop by and see what I could dig up.


	4. Chapter 4

When I arrived at Rally J's, Jamal Jenkins was standing in front of the building having a heated conversation with a woman I didn't know.

"Go ahead. Go in and count it yourself."

"I believe you, Jas. I know you can count. It was there yesterday afternoon."

"I know. Some of it. Jamal, you told me you were going to stop this!"

"I have . . .Oh hello," Jenkins stopped short when he saw me approaching and Jasmine turned to look at me.

"Sorry to interrupt."

"No problem. Oh, have you met my wife, Jasmine?"

"Hi," she said with a polite smile.

"Rob Baker," I replied with a handshake before turning to her husband. "I was hoping to talk to you . . .if you've got the time."

"Sure."

"I've got to run," Mrs. Jenkins said. "I'll see you tonight, honey," As she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, she muttered something to her husband about keeping an eye on him. But when she moved away, she was all smiles. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Baker."

I tipped my hat as she walked away.

"Nice lady," I remarked to Jenkins as we walked towards the door. "Been married long?"

"A year next July."

"Congratulations."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Jenkins replied with a wry laugh.

"Worried it won't last?"

"You never know . . .She sure can nag though, but I guess that's a wife for you. Are you married Baker?"

"No, confirmed bachelor myself."

Jenkins chuckled. "I remember those days. Good times. But Jas is a great girl. I'm lucky to have her by my side." As Jenkins and I walked into the dark building and he flipped on the lights to reveal an empty bar. "So what did you want to ask? I've already told Fernandez what I know."

"Yeah, he told me you had an alibi."

"So do my employees."

"I also heard that Baxter spent a lot of time around here, even though you knew he worked for Ferguson."

"Yeah, Baxter came here almost every night. Whenever I wasn't keeping my eye on him, he was snooping around."

"So why'd you let him stay?"

"Most of the time he was harmless. We all knew who he was and he wasn't a very good spy. If I banned Baxter totally, chances are Ferguson would hire someone who was better at his job. Putting up with Baxter seemed the best thing to do. There's only been a few occasions when he started some problems and I had to throw him out."

"What happened?"

"A few times he just got in the way. He's kind of a klutz and he was just making messes that we had to clean up. Only once did he cause some serious damage."

"Oh yeah?"

"He was poking around in my office and caught some papers on fire. I kicked him out and banned him from the club for a couple of weeks. The guy about burned the place down. I can't let that happen."

"How do you know it was Baxter who did it?"

"Hector saw him do it. Good thing. He probably saved the whole building by catching the fire before it got out of hand."

"Is there any reason someone might've wanted to kill Baxter here?"

"Not anyone I know. My employees aren't murderers."

"What about Ferguson? Do you think he might have done it?"

"Fernandez seems to think so, but I couldn't tell you."

"What do you know about Ferguson?"

"Not much. I met him a few times and that was enough,"

I smiled. "I know what you mean."

"He gets under your skin. He came by a few times to try to talk me into selling the place over to him, but I turned him down," Jenkins looked away sternly, like he was thinking about more that he was saying. I wanted to ask Jenkins about his finances, but I had to be careful not to offend him. I didn't want to be thrown out before I got the answers I wanted.

"I'd imagine it's a good business."

"It's not bad. Used to be better, but I don't get as many customers as I used to . . ."

"So why don't you sell?"

"I thought about it. Maybe getting into something else. But I'm not selling to Ferguson. He's probably the reason business is so bad . . .I've got to get back to work. Do you want a drink or something?"

"Nah, but I'd like to hang around for awhile if you don't mind."

"Sure."

"Hey, you really are becoming a real regular," Gaby said as she and Tina walked into the club a few minutes after Jenkins went into the other room.

"Yeah, well you were right. This place makes you want to come back. It's too bad about the trouble that happened here last night."

"Yeah. Don't remind me," Gaby shuddered and Tina just looked away solemnly.

"Would you gals mind telling me exactly what happened last night from the time you came into the bar until the police came?"

Tina and Gaby exchanged worried glances. "I don't think we have time, we have to get ready," Tina replied hesitantly.

Gaby caught a glimpse of something in my expression and quickly agreed to the request. Gaby did most of the talking and Tina backed her up with nods and a few added comments on things that her friend may have left out.

In short, they arrived just as Jenkins was unlocking the front door. The three went inside from there, Jenkins went back to the office and the girls started setting up the bar. They said they went back and forth between the backroom and the main room several times as they worked, sometimes separately and sometimes together. About fifteen minutes later, Jenkins came out of the backroom and said he had to run out for a minute. He didn't say where and the girls didn't ask, since it didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary.

A few minutes after Jenkins left, Carrero entered the bar, said hello the girls and went back to his dressing room to prepare for his act. A few more minutes passed, before the girls heard the crash from the storage room. They said they were putting tablecloths on the tables at the time, but abandoned that job and hurried back to see what had happened.

"You went through this way?" I asked pointing to the door that opened directly to the storage room.

"Naturally," Gaby replied.

"And what about the other door in that room, the one that goes to the hallway by Jamal's office? Did you notice if it was open or closed?"

Tina shook her head, but Gaby thought a moment and replied. "Closed. I remember it was closed. Jamal shut it when he left and I remember opening it after."

"Was there anytime that someone could have come through this door when you weren't looking?" I said pointing to the second door.

The girls looked at each other, trying to decide how to answer, before Tina jumped in with a quiet, "Maybe."

"What about after you found Baxter?" I asked. "What did you do then."

"I went back to Jamal's office and called my brother, Alex," Gaby replied. I glanced at Tina. "She came with me," Gaby quickly added. "She was really shaken after seeing that, so I didn't want her to be alone."

"Weren't you?" I asked Gaby.

"Yeah, I was upset. That's why I wanted Alex here. He's good at handling things."

"Then what?" I prompted.

"He said he'd be right over," she replied. "By that time, Hector had come out of his dressing room to see what happened and Jamal had come back from wherever he went. When Jamal found out what happened, he told Hector to get Ms. Barnett and Calvin Ferguson and told us to take a break and go sit down or something. I took Tina back to Lenni's dressing room to lie down, then I went out to see what was going on and to wait for Alex."

At that point our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the staff.

"But Jamal!" a female voice protested. Jenkins walked into the room followed by a woman dressed in a brightly colored sequined pant outfit and a young man in a oversized dark suit that matched his slicked back hair.

"I'm sorry, Lenni, but this is the way it's got to be."

"It's not fair. Hector and I deserve to be paid what we're worth."

"We had a deal."

"Right. And if we don't start getting our full wages on time, we're quitting."

"Yeah."

"You can't quit. You have a contract," Jamal objected.

"Then you'd better hold up your end of it."

"Or else we want out of it."

"Lenni, Hector. I want to pay you more right now, but times have been tough. As soon as I get the money, you'll get paid."

"I don't think that's good enough, Jamal. If you don't appreciate us, then let us go."

"Guys," Jamal pleaded. "Look at this place. It hasn't been busy for months. What do you expect me to do? If you want to get paid, maybe you should work on your acts a little more and draw more people in," Jamal said and then walked away to tend to some business.

"What good will that do? There's no one here to see them even if we do."

"How'd it go guys?" Gaby asked as they turned towards the bar to face her.

"It didn't," Lenni frowned. "We're so stuck! We'd be better of being paid nothing at all. At least then we could get out of our contracts."

"Tough luck, guys."

"You're lucky, Gaby. You can leave whenever you want. We've tried everything," said Hector.

"Yeah, lucky me. I don't even get paid full minimum wage and Jamal has been stiffing me and Tina out of our tips."

"God, why doesn't Jamal just give up and shut this place down? I wish he would already."

After that Lenni and Hector went back to their dressing rooms back stage while Tina and Gaby went back to work setting up the bar. I decided to follow the entertainers. I especially wanted to get Carerro's input in this fire incident.

"Ok so these two guys walk into a bar," I overheard Carrero's voice say as I knocked on the partially open door to his dressing room.

"It's open," he said. I pushed the door and let it swing open, but remained standing in the hallway. Carrero was standing with his back to me, facing a mirror, but I could see his face reflected in the glass. When my own image appeared in the mirror, the expression on his face dropped.

He turned in his chair and looked at me, his eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"Just thought I'd drop by to chew the fat," I said casually.

"What?" his face twisted in an expression that showed confusion and disgust.

"To chat, talk," I clarified. "Mind if I come in?"

"Look Mack, I know who you are and I don't have to tell you anything."

"Why? You got something to hide?" I asked as I sauntered into the room.

"I don't like the police. I don't trust them."

"I'm not exactly a flatfoot. I'm more of a gum shoe."

Again that confused look crossed Carrero's face. "Huh? Why should I care what kind of shoes you wear?"

I decided if I was going to get anywhere with this one, I was going to have to cut the slang. "I'm not a cop. I'm a private detective. I solve mysteries, like what went on here last night."

"Look, I don't know what happened. I was back here rehearsing until I heard the crash. I only went out there to make sure Tina and Gaby were ok. I didn't know nothing about what happened to Baxter. I wasn't involved, man," he said quickly.

"Take it easy," I said, pulling up a seat. "I never said I thought you were."

"Then why are you here?"

"I just wanted to talk."

"Chew the fat," he said unsurely, but he was starting to ease up.

"Yeah . . .So how long have you been working here?"

"A few months."

"You like it?"

"Yeah, beats my last job. I had a job at the canning factory, It was bad, but I needed the money for my mom. She had to raise me by herself since my dad was thrown in the slammer. I don't know what for, Mom wouldn't tell me about it, but it doesn't matter. I don't really remember him."

"So how'd you start working here?"

"I used to tell jokes on the job, that used to crack up my boss. Like . . ."

"Don't tell me. It'll ruin the surprise when I see your act tonight." I had to do something to keep this guy on track. This could take all day, so I decided to go back to the direct approach.

"Oh . . .right."

"So last night, how long were you back here before Jenkins told you about the accident?"

Carrero hesitated a moment, thinking. "I don't know. Five minutes maybe. I was only part way through with the new bit I was practicing."

"Then what happened after you heard the crash and left your dressing room?"

"I ran into Jamal as he was walking into his office. Gaby and Tina were already there and they told us what happened. Jamal told me to go upstairs to get Ms. Barnett, so I did. The secretary didn't want to let me in at first. I told her it was important and she said that Ms. Barnett was in a meeting. Then I said to her that this was more important. Something happened downstairs and Jamal needed to see her right away. So she said she'd ask, so she called Ms. Barnett and then let me in. When I went into the office Barnett and Ferguson were both there."

"What were they doing when you came in?"

"Nothing. Just sitting at the desk, talking. I told them the news and we came back to the club right away."

"How did they react when you told them that Baxter was injured?"

"Surprised. Barnett looked kind of upset and looked at Ferguson. He asked me if I was joking and I said no. Then we all went downstairs to the backroom."

"Who else did you see when you got there?"

"Jamal and Lenni were in the backroom when we walked in and they said Tina and Gaby were in Lenni's dressing room. I guess they were really freaked out about it."

"Did you know Baxter at all? Know why anyone might want to kill him?"

"Maybe he got in the way too many times."

"What do you mean?"

Carrero suddenly got defensive and he clammed up. Maybe he thought he had said too much. "Look I never hurt nobody, buddy." He was getting edgy. He looked like he was about to jump out of his chair and bolt. "I don't have anything else to say, man."

"Relax. I heard you have an alibi. Lenni Frazier said you were both back here at the time of the murder."

"But," he started to say, but then thought about what I had said for a moment. "Does that mean I'm not a suspect?"

I shrugged. "I'm just trying to figure out what's been going on."

"Like getting a story?"

"Sort of . . .you like stories, Carrero?"

"Yeah . . .sometimes."

"Maybe you could tell me one. I heard there was a fire here a few months ago. You know what happened?"

"Maybe," Carrero said, eyeing me suspiciously.

"It's not a hard question."

Carrero hesitated, but finally gave in and told the story, "Okay. That night I went back to Jamal's office between sets. It was really dark, but I thought I saw something move, so I said, "Freeze right there!" and turned on the light. Then I saw Baxter trying to look through Jamal's stuff, secretly, in the dark. I asked what he was doing there and he didn't know what to say. But while we were talking we didn't notice that he had dropped his match until some of Jamal's papers had caught on fire. Luckily, we managed to put it out right away."

"So it was an accident?"

"Yeah, but you won't tell Jamal, will you?"

"Why not?"

"I told him that Baxter did it, because I wasn't supposed to be back there."

"Why did you go back there then?"

Carrero suddenly realized that he had slipped up again, but he realized it was too late to lie about it. "I told Jamal it was because I heard a noise, but really I wanted to find my contract."

"Why?"

"I just wanted to look at the details again, that's all."

I had a feeling Carerro was leaving something out, but I also had a feeling that he wasn't going to offer up any more information.

After I finished up with Carerro I knocked on Frazier's door. Just as she was opening the door, Gaby came running towards us.

"Guess what! They caught the murderer!"

"Who?" Frazier and I eagerly asked at once, as Carerro joined us.

As we hurried out to the front, my mind was racing. Who could it be? Frazier, Carrero, and Gaby were with me. That left Jenkins, Barnett, Ferguson, Tina, or someone else.

Everyone was gathered on the sidewalk in front of the club as the police slapped the cuffs on the culprit's wrist.


	5. Chapter 5

"I was set up!" Ferguson protested.

"Don't forget, you have the right to remain silent," Fernandez said with a taunting edge.

"I swear I didn't kill Jeffrey. I've been framed!"

Everyone involved was there. Jenkins stood by watching solemnly with his arm around the shoulders of his wife. Barnett was nearby, standing with her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact with Ferguson. Gaby watched with excited interest, next to Tina who seemed almost emotionless. Carerro looked on coldly and Frazier seemed to be trying to disappear into the gathering crowd. Detective Fernandez seemed almost smugly superior as he ran the show.

"Put him away, boys. Away for good."

"No, you've got it all wrong," Ferguson pleaded. "I wouldn't kill Jeffrey. We were pals, you've got to believe me. Besides I was with Krista when it happened. I've got an alibi. Tell them, Krista."

Barnett just glared at him angrily, with hurt in her eyes before turning and walking away.

"What did you tell them?" Ferguson called out. "You double crossed me! I won't forget it. You won't get away with this. Just wait and see!"

She paused a moment as Ferguson was led back into a cop car. Then she walked away. I started to push my way through the crowd to get to her, to find out what had happened, but by now the crowd was dense and the police officers on the scene were blocking my way.

"Nothing more to see here, folks," Fernandez said to the crowd. "Keep it moving."

"I don't believe it," Jasmine said to her husband as I stood nearby.

"I'm just glad it wasn't someone from my club. We can't afford any more bad publicity."

"You can say that again. This might actually be good for us."

"Shh," Jenkins hissed, motioning towards me.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," she explained. "I mean, it's terrible that he could kill his own partner like that, but I was just thinking about the arrest being better for our business, since Ferguson won't be able to spread rumors about us anymore . . .Why was he so mad at Krista?"

"She was his alibi," Jenkins explained. "They were together at the time of the murder. Maybe she changed her story."

"But wait," Jasmine said. "The murder was about the same time that we split up in front of the club, right?"

"Yeah . . ."

"But I saw Ferguson just after that."

"What?"

"Where?" I added.

"Just down the street. He was walking towards the club with Lenni Frazier."

"But Hector said she was in her dressing room . . ."

"No," I interrupted. I was excited about the revelation, but feeling stupid for not realizing it before. "Frazier said Carrero was in the dressing rooms, but he never said anything about her being there."

By now the crowd had started to break up and the police were gone. Only the Jenkins and I remained on the sidewalk. Where had Frazier gone? We really needed to talk.

I hurried into the club and back to her dressing room, where I found her pacing back and forth across the room wringing her hands.

"Spill it, sister. Where were you when Jeffrey Baxter was murdered? And I want the truth this time."

She stopped in place and took a deep breath before turning to look at me.

"I was with Calvin Ferguson, ok?" she replied tartly.

"Then why did you tell Fernandez you were back here?"

"I know I said that, but that was when everyone else was there, listening. I didn't want them to know Ferguson and I were together."

"So you lied?"

"At first. I didn't think it would do any harm. Hector already said that Ferguson was with Krista Barnett, so it's not like Calvin needed me to cover for him. Not that I care anyway . . .I knew it was wrong to lie, so I tried to tell Detective Fernandez the truth earlier this afternoon, but he wouldn't listen to me." She sighed. "As far as I'm concerned, Ferguson probably deserves to go to prison, but I don't want it to be because I lied."

"So when were you with Ferguson?"

"Between 5 and 6."

"That's a wide range. Can't you be a little more specific?"

"No, we were together from 5:00 to 6:00. I met him for dinner, to discuss some things, at least that's what I thought," she said rolling her eyes briefly. "After dinner he walked me back to Rally J's so I could go to work."

"What time did you enter the building?"

"About 6:00, I think, maybe a little before. I thought I was a little later than usual, and I was all ready for Jamal to say something about that, but when I came in the club was really quiet, like I was early."

"What do you mean?"

"Usually Gaby, Tina, and Jamal are running around setting stuff up, getting the place ready. But the place was deserted, or at least I thought so until I ran into Gaby and she told me about the accident. Then I went back to see for myself."

"Who else was there?"

"Gaby went to check on Tina before I went into the back room, but Jamal was there. A minute or two later, Hector came in with Barnett and Ferguson."

"Where was Tina?"

"I don't know. I was too rattled to think about it at the moment. I think Jamal said that she and Gaby went to call the police."

I turned these facts over in my mind for a moment, trying to figure out how Frazier's story matched up with the others that I'd heard.

"If you and Ferguson were together at the time of the murder, then how come everyone else, including Ferguson, says he was with Barnett?"

"I don't know, but that's exactly what Detective Fernandez asked me," she said, sounding frustrated. "Maybe Ferguson was trying to cover for her or something. All I know is that, unfortunately, we were together and I really don't want that known."

"Why? What are you trying to hide?"

"Nothing!" she snapped. I gave her a look and she gave in. "Sorry, it's just that . . .I thought it was going to be strictly a business dinner. I thought Ferguson was going to offer me a job, singing at his club, but then it turned into a . . ." she made a disgusted face, like she had a bad taste in her mouth. "date. He was just trying to get me to go out with him. I turned him down flat out cold. But it's embarrassing. He's not the kind of guy that I want to associate with, ok?"

"Ok," I shrugged.

"I didn't plan to lie. It just happened," she said. "When everyone else said Ferguson was with Barnett, I didn't see any reason to say I was with him until now . . .Do you think you can do something to fix this . . .without everybody knowing?"

"I'll see what I can do, sister," I said as I turned to leave.

"Thanks a million."

Before I could try to do anything to help Ferguson, I needed to figure out what had incriminated him. I needed to find out what Barnett's role in this was. When I went up to her office, the secretary sent me right in.

"What took you so long?" Barnett asked. She was sitting at her desk, with her back to me.

"I had a few other leads to check up on first," she turned around to face me as I took a seat across from her. "So what happened?"

"Fernandez came back and asked me some more questions about Ferguson. I just told him that Ferguson came up at about 6:00, maybe a little after, and he said that was all he needed to hear and left."

"Why did you change your story?"

"I didn't. He never asked me before. When Hector Carrero said that I was with Ferguson when he came looking for me, Fernandez took it to mean that we had been together the entire time. When he asked me more about it this afternoon, I set him straight."

"What took you so long? Why not correct him at first?"

"I didn't think about it. I was too upset about Jeffrey's death to care at the moment."

It sounded like a lame excuse to me, so I decided to call her out. "What was going on between you and Baxter?"

She looked confused for a moment. "We were friends."

"Was that all?"

"Yes."

"Then why did he come up to see you after spying on Rally J's and why did you sound so concerned on his answering machine when you hadn't heard from him for a day? I'm wondering who Baxter really worked for. Maybe he wasn't just getting information for Ferguson, maybe he was gathering it for you too. Or maybe you and Ferguson were working together."

"You've got it all backwards," she said dismissively.

"Then Baxter was blackmailing you with the insurance information that he withheld from Ferguson."

"No!" she said looking shocked. "Jeffrey wouldn't do that."

"Don't tell me this was just because you were friends."

She hesitated a moment, frowning and biting her lip. "That was the reason in a way . . ."

"Don't play games with me. I'm on to you."

"I'm not. I . . .I was helping him . . .Baxter. He worked for Ferguson, but he was my friend. When he found out Ferguson was looking for dirt on me too, his loyalties were divided. He didn't want to cause trouble for me and he didn't want to betray his obligation to Ferguson."

"Why was he obligated to Ferguson?"

"Honestly, I don't know what went on between them, only that Jeffrey was a very loyal person."

"So how'd you help him?"

"I told him he could bring the information that he gathered to me and I'd tell him what to give to Ferguson. The idea was to send Ferguson just enough information to keep him happy, but nothing that he could do any real damage with. Of course that didn't stop Ferguson from exaggerating the facts or simply making up his own dirt."

"And I suppose Baxter wouldn't have had any information that you would benefit in knowing or keeping Ferguson from knowing."

"I never said that," Barnett admitted. " Of course I want to know what's going on around here, but it's not like I was ever going to use what Jeffrey told me against anybody, like Calvin did."

"But you could have. With the right information, you could have terminated the lease of a less than ideal tenant."

"If I really wanted Rally J's out, I could have done it legally, without the dirt. I already knew about Jenkins' financial problems. The last few months he's asked for extensions on his rent payments. Like I said, I'd rather have them here than Ferguson. And I admit I like knowing what goes on in my own building before he does. Ferguson can't be trusted."

"Then why all of the 'business meetings' with him. Or are they like the meetings he's had with Lenni Frazier?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking confused.

"Are they really about business or are they social."

"Oh," she sighed. "With Calvin Ferguson it's never a clear division. He tends to use one to get to the other."

"What about with you?" I asked.

She grinned briefly and then turned serious again. "He was interested in my building. He was always trying to find someway to get me to sell him at least part of it, but I turned him down, repeatedly. That's how this whole arrangement between me and Jeffrey started. He was looking for some way to blackmail me."

"Like bogus insurance claims?"

She looked shocked for a moment, but then gave in and accepted that I knew more than she had hoped. "Exactly. But that was all a mistake. It was my grandfather's policy and I didn't quite understand all of the details behind it."

"Why did Ferguson come here last night? What did he say?"

"He wasn't here long. He showed up in a bad mood and he started talking about Jeffrey. I think he suspected that something was going on with us, but Carrero interrupted before he could say much."

"What about after you two left the club? What did you say to each other then?"

"I don't know. He was talking, but I wasn't listening."

"Let me guess, too upset?" She just glared at me for sounding sort of sarcastic. I changed my tone slightly. "Upset about the death or were you upset with Ferguson too?"

"You mean do I think he was involved? . . .The possibility crossed my mind. Somehow I don't think Ferguson killed him, but that doesn't mean he wasn't responsible."

"That why you let Fernandez arrest him?"

"Let him? There was nothing I could do. All I did was answer Fernandez's questions. I have no proof that Ferguson didn't do it, other than a suspicion."

"Somehow I don't think Fernandez would care about that unless your suspicion went the other way. Did his questions seem to lean against Ferguson?"

"Maybe a little, now that you mention it," she said thoughtfully. "Do you think Ferguson's innocent?"

"Possibly. But I think you've just lost your alibi."

"Before Ferguson came up I was here, in my office, you can ask my secretary. I was in the hotel all afternoon."

"Ok," I nodded. We were silent for a moment and I noticed how concerned she really looked. "So you and Baxter really were friends, huh?"

"Yeah," she said quietly and paused. "I just moved here from Australia after my grandfather died. It was rough being in a new place, trying to figure out how to run a new business, and I didn't know anybody at all. Somehow, unfortunately, I met Calvin Ferguson and quickly figured out that he wasn't someone I wanted to get mixed up with. But through him I met Jeffrey and he was just a really nice guy."

"Sorry," I said awkwardly.

"I know you're just doing what you do best. And I'm glad you're on the case."

"You seem to know everything that's been going on. Who do you think did it?"

"I really wish I knew. He had dirt on everybody . . ."

"Including you."

"Yeah, I guess he did."

"Do you know what he was looking into just before he was murdered?"

"I know he was keeping an eye on the safe."

"Someone dipping into the funds?"

"Not just someone. Everyone. Jamal's been gambling away most of the profits and trying to hide it from his wife. And the other employees have been complaining about not getting paid enough. I guess the last person he caught . . .was the last . . ."

I nodded slowly as her voice drifted off. "You know of all of the people I talked to you're the last one who's seen him alive, on record."

"I tried to talk him into giving up on this. Even the last time I saw him I tried to convince him to go home instead of going back downstairs. I've even tried offering him a job in the hotel if he would quit working for Ferguson, but he just wouldn't listen. I was so worried something like this was going to happen. I want to know who did this," she said firmly before looking up at me. "You won't let them punish the wrong person, will you? You'll make sure this case won't be closed until the person who attacked Jeffrey is caught?"

I shrugged. Her pleading eyes were making me uncomfortable. "I'll do my best."

"Thank you,"she sighed. "Is there anything else you wanted to ask me, Robby?"

"No, that's it for now. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know."

"Good luck."

After leaving Barnett, I walked outside and back towards Rally J's. When I saw Detective Fernandez and Tina walking towards the entrance of the club, I hid back in the corner and watched. Where had they been from the time I saw them last until now? And what were they doing together?

"It's going to be alright now, Tina. I promise."

"Thank you so much, Alex. I don't know what I'd do without you," she said, giving him a hug.

"No problem. I'll be back at nine to pick you up, ok?"

"Ok, I'll be ready," she said. Then they kissed before Tina went inside.

I stepped out of the shadows and walked towards Fernandez as he started in my direction.

"Hey, buddy," he said with a smile. "I don't think we'll need you around here anymore. The case is solved. And the culprit's going to get what he deserves."

"Guess so," I said, standing with my hands in my pockets.

Fernandez frowned for a moment. "Don't tell me you're jealous that I figured it out first. No hard feelings, ok, pal?"

"No . . ." I said and trailed off. Maybe it was the sunlight reflecting off of Fernandez's wristwatch, but I thought I saw a flash of light near his left trench coat pocket. I snapped out of it. "I was just wondering what tipped you off."

"When I went back to question Barnett the story didn't add up with Ferguson's. He was just using her as a cover. Plus I found out that he thought Baxter was trying to double cross him. That gave him an opportunity and a motive that the other suspects didn't have."

"What about Frazier? Did you question her?" I tested him.

"Of course," he frowned. "Do I look like a rookie?"

"Then she never told you that Ferguson was with her at the time of the murder?"

"Uh," he faltered a moment. "But she was supposed to be in the dressing rooms like Hector. That's what she said at first, so I can't trust her story. Ferguson probably threatened her to make the whole thing up. He's done stuff like that before . . .Why are you still worried about this anyway? We've got the culprit. It's not our problem anymore. You've got to learn how to let things go. Take the easy answers when you can."

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "That's not for me." He watched me as I walked on.


	6. Chapter 6

As I walked back through the streets of Brooklyn, I took my newly acquired facts into account. Somebody was lying, but who? Fernandez could have been right. Maybe Ferguson threatened to tell everyone that he and Frazier had dated, so she would provide him with an alibi. But maybe Fernandez was jumping to conclusions. I remembered Gaby saying that he and Ferguson had some sort of rivalry. I was thinking that I should try to find out some more details about that, but first I wanted to check something in my office.

When I started to unlock the door, I thought I heard a sound from inside. It sounded like the clicking of typewriter keys. I stood there a moment listening, trying to think of a reason why someone would break into my office to use my typewriter.

I drew my gun with my right hand and slowly turned the door knob with my left. The door stuck, still locked. The clicking inside continued. I carefully turned the key until the door unlocked and waited, listening for any sounds inside, but I could only hear the rhythmic clicks of the typewriter keys. Slowly I turned the knob again and quickly swung the door open, my gun pointed into the room, ready for anything to happen.

The room was vacant. Nobody was at the desk, yet there were a few more clicks before a streak of faint light passed by me. Then there was nothing. Dead silence.

A full sheet of paper drifted down from the typewriter to the desk as if it was blown by a breeze, but the room felt still.

Confused, I put my gun away and walked across the room to the desk. I picked up the piece of paper and read its contents. On the top of the page were the words that I had written for the beginning of my next story. I scanned past the place where I had stopped typing, but the words continued.

_"april 19."_ That was the day before Baxter was murdered.

_"7:00 jamal and his wife had another spat about money. she says some is missing and accuses him of gambling again. he says he didn't. i'll have to keep an eye on that._

_"8:30 jamal left. don't know why or where he went._

_"8:35 saw gaby and tina whisper something to each other, looking suspicious, then gaby went into the back room as tina kept look out._

_"8:40 gaby comes back from the back room, nods to tina and they go back to work._

_"9:00 jamal returns. disappears into his office and comes back out at 9:30_

_"9:35 jamal and lenni argue and lenni goes back stage. hector is on stage. i remarked on his jokes, making the crowd laugh, hector gets mad. jamal gets really mad and makes me leave._

_"11:30 sneaked back into the club to hide out in the back and see what i can overhear._

_"3:27 a.m. woke up. i fell asleep while hiding in the closet and now i'm locked in the club. if i can't find a way out, i'll have to wait until they open tonight."_

_"airline flight 1097b fort greene airlines april 21 gate 7 seat 42 10:00 p.m. brooklyn, ny to las veags, nv"_

_"airline flight 1097b fort greene airlines april 21 gate 7 seat 43 10:00 p.m. brooklyn, ny to las veags, nv"_

I didn't know how the words got there or if they were for real. But I recognized what they were. The first part looked like Baxter's journal entries and the second part was plane tickets. Reading the journal entries gave me the chills. I took a nervous glance around the room just to make sure that I was still alone. I felt like Baxter's ghost was trying to communicate with me. I shook my head. I was thinking crazy thoughts.

It looked like someone was planning to cover up something that Baxter had found out the night before and then was going to go to Las Vegas tonight. It could have been anybody. Ferguson or Barnett would be the most likely people to have notes from Baxter's journal, except that neither of them had heard from him the day he was murdered.

Since the notes seemed to be taken prior to Baxter's accident. He probably had them on him when the accident happened. Anyone who had been alone with him after he was knocked out could have taken the notes from him to protect themselves. I knew Jenkins, Tina, and Gaby could have had the opportunity to take them and this account didn't make any of them look good.

As for the plane tickets, Ferguson was in no position to be going anywhere now and if Barnett was going to leave town, I would have thought she'd head to Australia. Of course, she knew that I knew that, so maybe she was trying to throw me off or maybe she had a reason to go to Las Vegas. The tickets could have been for Jenkins and his wife. Where would a guy who liked to gamble want to go, except Las Vegas? I knew Tina and Gaby were planning on going to California someday, maybe they decided to stop off at Vegas along the way. Or maybe it was Detective Fernandez and the other ticket was for Tina or Gaby. Gaby was his sister and Tina appeared to be his girlfriend. He could have taken the evidence to protect one of them. Of course, anyone who came in contact with Baxter before the police showed up could have taken it too. And there's no reason why it couldn't be Frazier or Carrero. Vegas isn't a bad place to find work in show biz.

"It could have been anybody," I said to myself, feeling frustrated. I held my head in my hands as the clicking of the typewriter began again. I jumped back as a flash of light bounced from key to key and the levers inside moved.

Once I recovered from my initial shock, I reached for a piece of paper to put in the typewriter to record the letters as they came.

_"by now you know that we're gone. we've left town together to go to las vegas. i know you must be hurt that we left without you and without saying goodbye, but that's just the way it has to be. i wish i could tell you more, but that will have to wait. i don't expect you to understand why we've left without you, but i hope someday we can go back to the way things were before. i'm sorry. love always,"_

I didn't understand what was happening. How was this possible? It was like my typewriter was possessed, but it seemed like someone or something was trying to tell me something. I stared at the sheet of paper intently. If I knew who was writing this I would know who lied and hopefully who the murderer was.

As I stared at the piece of paper, waiting for the letters to appear, the keys continued to click and the paper moved, but no letters appeared. Four clicks and then silence.

What happened? I jumped back. Had the typewriter just typed out blank spaces? Was it jammed? I opened the case and found that it was out of ribbon. I was so close!

I tried to think. A space after the comma and then four letters. Who had a four letter name? Gaby, Tina, Alex. Kris was a nickname that Barnett used in Australia and on Baxter's answering machine. In fact as I remembered on that same message she had called him Jeff. I couldn't think of any obvious four letter nicknames for the others.

I tapped my fingers in the desk for a moment, trying to decide what to do next. I could sit here and wait for more messages or I could head out to Rally J's again. But I couldn't get any more messages without ribbon. I looked through my desk to find a replacement, but I was out. The stores would be closed by now, so it was too late to buy any new ribbon tonight. If I had to wait until tomorrow morning, I'd be too late.

As I was about to throw the old ribbon out, something caught my eye. When I held it up to the light, the images of letters caught my eye. Of course! I scanned back to the beginning of the note. _lasvegasdeargaby,bynow_

"Gaby!" I exclaimed. The letter was written to Gaby. I picked up the sheet of paper and glanced at my watch. I was going to have to act quickly. It was already 8:30. I didn't have much time left.

As I walked quickly to Rally J's, my mind raced. The image of the words from the note burned in my brain. Who would have written a note like that? Who did the words sound like? And that light on my typewriter keys. I had seen that somewhere before. Suddenly it all clicked into place. I had it!

I was about two blocks away from the club when I passed Barnett going the opposite direction. I nodded and she smiled as I approached.

"Walk with me," I said.

"What's up?" she asked turning around. I grabbed her arm and pulled her along until she caught up to my pace. Her high heels clicked quickly on the pavement.

"Where's the fire?" she asked.

"Do me a favor." I let go of her arm and took a pen and paper out of my pocket and jotted down a number as we continued walking. "I need you to call this number. Tell the man who answers to meet me at Rally J's ASAP and to bring Ferguson if he can."

"You've figured it out?" she said, taking the paper.

"You've got it. It's going to be good. You might want to be there too."

She stopped as we reached her door and went inside as I continued on to Rally J's. I hesitated at the entrance to the club for a moment, catching my breath and deciding how I was going to approach this.

When I went inside, I lingered at the coat check for a moment. There was no sign of Tina. I checked my watch. 8:45. She and Fernandez wouldn't have left yet. I walked over to the bar where Gaby and Hector were having a conversation.

"I don't know what her problem is," Gaby said. "Ever since Alex arrested Calvin she's been acting funny."

"Lenni too," Carerro agreed. "She seems nervous."

"Yeah, so has Tina, but in a different way. She's been spacey and I tried to talk to her about . . .our plans to go to California and she totally ignored me."

"Maybe Lenni and Tina are involved with what happened somehow."

"Don't say that," Gaby scolded.

"You're right. I didn't mean it."

"Besides if they were, which they're not, they should be relieved that the case is solved. I think something else is bothering them. I'm worried about Tina."

"Speaking of Tina," I interrupted. Gaby turned, startled and Carerro glared at me distrustfully. "Do you know where she is?"

"Why?" asked Carerro.

"No one was at the hatcheck counter when I came in just now."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, Mr. Baker," Gaby apologized. "I can check your hat and coat for you."

"No, it's ok. I won't be here long."

"Good," Carerro mumbled.

"I was just wondering if your brother has been in tonight." Before Carrero could ask why again, I added, "I was hoping to talk to him."

"No."

"Ok, thanks."

"Hector, there you are," Lenni said approaching the group as Gaby wandered off. "You've got to get on stage."

"Why should I?" he asked. "What would happen if we just didn't do our acts tonight? I'm sick of how we're being treated."

"Me too but . . . " Lenni started to say, but she was interrupted by Gaby who had just come back to the group from the hatcheck room.

"Lenni, have you seen Tina? I'm worried about her."

"Yeah, I just saw her taking the trash out back."

"Where's that? Can you show me?" I asked eagerly.

"Yeah, I guess so," Frazier replied.

"It's urgent," I added. Lenni lead the way. Hector and Gaby followed behind, wanting to see what was going on. On the way we ran into Jamal who demanded to know what we were doing.

"This alley where you throw out the trash, how many other exits are there?"

"One side opens into the street and the other is blocked off by a big fence. Some doors in the other buildings open into it, but I'd assume they're locked from the outside like ours is."

"I need you to go to the street entrance and block that exit. Don't let anyone go out that way."

"I don't know what's going on, but ok. Come on, Hector."

Lenni pointed out the door to the alley, but she and Gaby hung back as I drew my gun and stepped into the dark alley. There, Tina and Alex stood together in each other's arms. They turned to look at me when they heard the door open. Then they turned the other way as Jenkins and Carrero appeared from the other end of the alley followed by Barnett.

"What are you doing here?" Fernandez asked.

"Getting some answers," I replied.

"Oh yeah, to what?" Fernandez asked.

"Like why you're taking off to Las Vegas in the middle of the night."

"How did you know about that?" Alex snapped.

"Las Vegas!?!" Gaby exclaimed, stepping into the alley. "You two were going to Las Vegas and you didn't tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Gaby. I left you a note," Tina apologized.

"A note? That's it?"

"Hold up," Fernandez interrupted. "How did you know we were going to Las Vegas? I didn't tell anyone but Tina."

"Never mind how I know. Why were you falsifying and withholding evidence? I know you took the missing pages from Baxter's journal that told about what happened here the night before he was killed. Who were you trying to protect and from what?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alex said, looking away. "And we don't have to stand here and listen to this. Come on, Tina."

As they started to turn to leave. Jenkins and Carerro stepped aside as Lieutenant McQuade appeared from the shadows behind them along with another cop and a handcuffed Calvin Ferguson.

Gaby stepped forward. "What? How can you just leave? Alex, you're my brother. Tina, you were my best friend. I want to know what's going on. Why are you leaving?"

"Gaby," Fernandez said, sounding annoyed. "You wouldn't understand."

"Yes, I would, Alex. I knew all about . . ." Gaby broke off as Tina looked at her pleadingly. "After everything, how could you two leave without me? You owe me an explanation."

"We owe you?" Tina exclaimed. "I think you owe me an explanation."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know all about your plans, Gaby. I heard you talking to Lenni and Hector. You guys were going to put together an act and leave me out. Well I couldn't let that happen."

"No . . ." Gaby started to protest. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't," Tina said as her eyes welled up with tears. Alex put him arm around her to comfort her. "I thought we were friends. Best friends."

"Tina," Lenni said softly as she stepped forward into the alley. Tina frowned and looked away. "We were never really planning to start an act. We were just talking about it as a possibility."

"Yeah," Hector agreed from the other side of the alley.

"And besides if we were going to start an act, we wouldn't just leave you out. Real friends don't do that," Gaby said scoldingly. "Real friends stand by each other no matter what. But I guess since we're not real friends after all. There's no reason I shouldn't tell . . ."

"No," Tina gasped.

"Don't be such a baby, Gaby." Alex scolded. "Don't say something that you're going to regret later."

"Like what?" I butted in.

"None of your business," Fernandez snapped. "Come on, Tina. Let's go before we miss our flight."

Fernandez turned to walk away, but Tina hesitated a moment. She looked at Gaby. "I'm sorry."

"Come on, Tina. We have to go."

"Why?" I asked. "So you can get out of town before anyone catches on to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fernandez replied, trying to sound tough. "Oh you're trying to frame me up for murder. Well stop wasting your breath. It was Ferguson."

"It wasn't Ferguson," Lenni spoke up, looking at the ground. "I know because he was with me."

"See. I told you I was framed," Ferguson interjected as the cop held him back.

"Well anyone can say they were with someone when they weren't."

"Including your sister and your girlfriend?" I asked. Fernandez looked like he was ready to attack. The onlookers gasped. "I've got enough evidence to know that it was one of you three, so you'd might as well confess."

Gaby, Tina, and Alex looked back and forth between each other.

"I don't have to deal with this. Come on, Tina," he said, but as she tried to walk away Lieutenant McQuade held him back.

"I'm sorry, son. But I think you need to stay in town for awhile."

Tina looked from Alex, who was being detained by a fellow police officer to Gaby who stood alone looking dejected and abandoned. Her face fell into a sad expression as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Ok, I'll tell the truth . . ." Tina gave in. "I'm the one who killed Jeffrey Baxter." The onlookers gasped in disbelief. Gaby and Alex tried to object, but she motioned for them to keep quiet.

"Tina? No way!" Carrero whispered to Jenkins.

"I know. She's always been so sweet. She's never even hurt a fly," Jenkins replied.

"This has gone too far," Tina continued. "I don't want to run away or hurt my friends," she and Gaby smiled at one another. Then she looked at Alex. "I do want to marry you someday, Alex, but not like this. I . . .this is all out of hand. I killed Jeffrey Baxter. I didn't mean to, but it was my fault."

"What happened?" I prompted.

"It was just before opening time. Gaby and I were setting up the club when Jamal went outside to talk to Jasmine. Ever since Jamal stopped giving us our tips, Gaby and I have been sneaking money out of the backroom safe. We know stealing is wrong, but we were only taking it because Jamal owed us and we really needed to save up so we could go to California. Anyway, when Jamal went outside we decided it was a good time to sneak into the safe. I was only going to take a few bucks, but then Jeffrey Baxter sneaked up on me . . .

{Flashback}

_I turned around and gasped. "What are you doing here? You know you aren't allowed back here!"_

_"Oh yeah? And I suppose you and Gaby are allowed to steal money from the safe?"_

_"Get out of here and mind your own business."_

_"Hey, I'm just doing my job."_

_"I'm going to tell Jamal that you're back here snooping around."_

_"Oh yeah? Then maybe I'll tell him how often you and Gaby have been stealing from him. Then maybe he'll turn you in to your police officer boyfriend."_

_"How did you know about my boyfriend?"_

_"I've seen you together."_

_"Well, Alex won't believe you."_

_"Then will he believe this?" he took a camera out of his pocket and snapped my picture._

_I don't know. When that flash went off I just snapped. He was trying to blackmail me. He was going to ruin my whole life._

_"Give me that!" I demanded, lunging for the camera, but he held it up out of my reach. I jumped for it, but it was just out of my grasp._

_"Don't do this to me," I begged. For an instant he looked sorry. I thought I had a chance to get the camera from him, so I pushed him. _

{End Flashback}

"That's when he fell backwards into the shelves along the wall," Tina almost looked remorseful as she finished relating the story. "He hit his head and I really felt bad for hurting him, but before I knew what was happening the shelves starting to wobble from the impact of him hitting them. Then the whole shelf and all of those boxes and bottles started to fall, right on top of him. It was so awful."

"I heard the crash from the other room," Gaby continued as Tina buried her face in Alex's shoulder. "I knew Tina was the only one back there, so I hurried back to see what had happened and to make sure she was ok. When I got there, Tina just stood in the middle of the room looking pale. She told me what happened, so I told her that we would call Alex and he'd take care of everything."

"So you knew who the real culprit was all along," I accused Fernandez.

"Yeah," he admitted. "But I couldn't let Tina go to jail. I love her."

"But you were going to let them put me away," Ferguson snapped. "Some cop you are."

"Hey, you deserved it for all of the trouble that you put me through in the past. I've been waiting for years to convict you of something."

"And if you can't do that, set it up?" I said. Fernandez was about to object, but then I remembered that flash of light that I had seen earlier. I asked McQuade to check Fernandez's coat pockets. Inside he found the camera, the plane tickets, and Baxter's missing notes.

"I'm very disappointed in you Detective Fernandez," Lieutenant McQuade said. "I'm sorry to say this, but I'm going to have to take you and Ms. Nguyen to the station. Mr. Ferguson, you're free to go."

"Now that's more like it."

As McQuade took Alex and Tina away, the rest of the group mumbled in disbelief. Gaby looked like she was about to cry, so Lenni stood next to her and put a reassuring arm over her shoulder as Hector came over to console her as well.


	7. Chapter 7

After that my life returned to its normal pace. I went back to my writing. I was thinking about basing a story on my recent experience, but I wasn't decided yet. I needed some time to clear my head and reflect on what had happened.

I'd kept my eyes on the local paper. The cover up was a huge scandal. Fernandez was stripped of his badge and tried for obstruction of justice, while Tina was charged for Baxter's murder. Fernandez was found guilty and Tina confessed and settled for a lesser manslaughter charge. They were both sentenced to some time in the slammer.

Ferguson, who thought he was off scot-free, was sued by Rally J's for slander and during the investigation was found guilty of some other crimes that he had committed and was currently on trial for those offenses.

I'd stayed out of the case after that night in the alley, but still I was curious about what had happened to the others. One day I came across the note that had started it all. "Murder at Rally J's." My eye was drawn to it among the other scraps of paper in my desk drawer. It was like it almost glowed. I picked it up and looked at it, still wondering who had sent it to me, just like I still wondered who or what had been controlling my typewriter that day to send me the clues that I needed to solve the case. It was a mystery alright. But, unfortuntately, some mysteries just aren't meant to be solved.

After I closed up the shop for the day I went for a walk. I headed out towards Rally J's, just to take a look at the place and maybe stop in for a nightcap. When I got there the old sign was gone and the door was marked 'closed'. It looked like it was under renovation.

As I stood outside looking at the building a cab pulled up behind me and honked its horn. I turned around, but the honk wasn't for me. The door to the hotel opened and Barnett came down the steps toting a pair of suitcases.

"Hey there," she called out. She seemed surprised to see me at first, but gave me a smile. "Did ya stop over to say goodbye?"

"I didn't know you were leaving."

"Of course you didn't," she replied. "I'm leaving the city, headed back to Australia."

"What about the building?"

"It was taking up too much of my time and bringing me too much stress. My cousin's going to take over."

"I didn't think the business really suited you anyway," I shrugged. "So what happened to Rally J's?"

"Jenkins closed the place down. He decided the nightclub scene didn't really suit him either. He won a bunch of money from a lawsuit against Ferguson, so he decided to go back to school."

"Good for him."

"My cousin's going to be running the bar too, but he's redecorating it and giving it a different name. He's going to have his hands full."

"I bet. So are Gaby, Lenni, and Hector going to work for him?"

"No, they left when Jamal sold the place to put together an act. I think they're hoping to make it to Broadway someday."

"Hey lady, the meter's running," the cab driver reminded her.

"I know," she replied. "I'll just be another minute."

"Don't let me keep you," I said. "Have a good trip."

"Thanks," she said as I helped her with her bags and she got into the cab. "And thanks for finding out the truth about Jeffrey's murder. It's meant a lot to me."

"No problem."

She grinned from the opened door of the backseat of the cab. "You know, I've read a couple of your novels . . .So how does the story end for you?"

"About like this I guess," I shrugged.

"I'm sure they could find an extra seat on the plane if you wanted to come along."

"Nah, I think I'm going to stick around here for awhile. Keep up my writing, look out for trouble."

"You'd better. It always seems to have a way of finding you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Take care, Robby."

"So long," I said as she shut the cab door and it drove away.

I stood on the sidewalk a moment watching the cab drive away before turning to look back at the building behind me. That was it. It was over. Rally J's was gone and everyone else had moved on. And it was time for me to do the same.

I turned and walked on. It was back to retirement for me, but somehow I knew it wouldn't stick. Sooner or later another case would come across my path and I wouldn't be able to turn it down either. It was in my blood. It was my fate. I just had to accept it.

But until that day comes, I'll stick to writing my mysteries.

Case closed.  



End file.
